


Very Unofficial Secrets

by IrishWitch58



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 14:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16477622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishWitch58/pseuds/IrishWitch58
Summary: I'm terrible at titles and summaries. Q has a few personal secrets and Bond finds out with a happy result all around.





	Very Unofficial Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first 00Q fanfic. I am grateful to the 00Q-JamesBond/Q addicted Facebook group who have been very welcoming. And thank you to Danger_Zone24 who did beta reading duty.

It was almost 6 PM and Q was actually getting the chance to go home on time. He leaned back in his office chair, stretched his arms over his head and then sat forward to complete the final document before signing off. He normally loved his work, finding it challenging on so many levels. But right now he needed some peace and quiet to decompress. The last person he expected to see was exactly who was standing in his office doorway. 

“Good evening Q,” James Bond greeted him, moving smoothly to lean one hip on Q’s desk. The man had cat DNA, no question. He had no sense of personal space.

Q continued to close down his programs and began to gather his belongings. He wasn’t going to let the agent get under his skin. This was what he kept promising himself, but somehow he always managed to feel a bit overwhelmed whenever the other man was present. It was different when he was just a voice and a figure on a camera feed. All the clever banter seemed more difficult in person. He always wondered how much of the frankly flirtatious nonsense was real. He couldn’t assume in this case. Q wasn’t about to risk an error of that magnitude. He rose from his chair and forced himself to walk past Bond to the coat rack. “Unless you have something urgent, 007, I was planning on leaving.” 

“Are you going to continue to ignore this?” Bond crossed his arms over his chest, the expensive suit jacket pulling intriguingly over the compact muscles of his torso. He raised an eyebrow when Q cast him a puzzled look. “You are interested, or at least curious.” He straightened up and took three steps closer. 

“About what?” Q knew very well what. He felt the attraction and had been determined to ignore it, having no safe way of evaluating whether the interest was mutual or just Bond exercising his skill in seduction as he seemed to do with nearly everyone. He tried desperately to maintain a neutral expression. He shifted and realized he was effectively trapped. The coat rack was behind the door and he was caught in the angle between the two. Moving forward put him too close to Bond. 

“About how you keep looking at me and then looking away when you realize I’ve noticed. And I always notice. You blush when I compliment you on anything from your new tech to a new tie. You almost choked on your tea when I got in the lift with you last week. It’s possible I intimidate you but I rather think nobody has ever done that. The other possibility is that my interest is returned.” Bond smiled slightly. “I have an idea. Perhaps we can try a little experiment. Scientific approach and all that.” He leaned impossibly closer and brought his right hand up to Q’s face, the gun calluses slightly rough and the skin warm. The brush of lips against his was at once welcome and startlingly intense. Q leaned in a little and returned the kiss, deepening it and hearing a quiet indrawn breath from Bond. The door was nudged closed as Q followed Bond over to the small settee under the monitors, exchanging increasingly breathless and more passionate kisses every few steps. This was glorious. Q had wanted this for too long and decided caution was overrated. Whatever the motivation, he might as well enjoy the moment. He licked into the hot mouth and grabbed handfuls of the tailored suit jacket. He felt Bond’s hands at his hips, dragging him even closer, then sliding along the waistband of his trousers, fingers beginning to delve under the fabric.

Q froze in sudden terror and jerked back hard. Bond eyed him with a small frown creasing the skin between his brows. “Something wrong?”

Q composed his face and stepped back even further. “I’m just not sure this is a good idea.”

Bond’s face tightened and took on a cold distant quality. “Perhaps I miscalculated. I could have sworn you were enjoying this.” He moved silently toward the door. “Let me know if you make up your mind.”

“Wait!” Q called out before his analytical brain could intervene. Damn, he wanted this and he had to find a way to make it happen. But his secret? His brain clocked through several scenarios. Bond might be completely put off or find it humorous or he might not really care. But he wouldn’t carry tales to anyone else. Despite the fact that everyone was aware of 007’s many conquests, the man himself never talked about them. “Is this a one off or do you have an interest in something longer term? And before you make a stupid joke, I am not proposing. But there is something between a quick shag and a lifetime commitment.”

Bond kept silent for a moment. Finally he shook his head slightly. “Why does it matter so much to you? I’m trying to understand but you don’t give anything away easily. I think we’d be spectacular together or I wouldn’t be breaking my personal rule about dating coworkers and I’m certainly not looking for a one and done. I can get that any time, and I don’t want any more of that.”

Bond could be a lying bastard in the field but Q got the sense this was truthful. He found his face heating as he tried to explain. “I have a few secrets beyond the official ones. If this was a casual thing, the office settee might be fine. But if you really mean that, you need to come to my flat. It will be easier for me to explain there and if you take it badly, I don’t have to get myself home. It feels safer somehow.”

“Bodies in the basement?” Bond ventured a smile. 

“No bodies,” Q responded. He shook himself and grabbed his coat. “Let’s go before I get cold feet.” He followed Bond and locked his office door. They took the lift to the garage and walked to the vehicle 007 was currently using. Q was surprised when the car door was held open for him and Bond drove sedately out of the garage, actually obeying all the traffic rules. The drive was a short one and there was a parking space only a few doors down from Q’s home. They walked in silence to the door which Q opened with his key and a press of a finger on a touchpad. The cats greeted them, eyeing Bond with suspicion. Q kicked his shoes off at the front door and headed into the small kitchen to fed the cats and pour a small measure of his good scotch into two glasses. He passed one to Bond, before sipping his own and gesturing to the hallway. Bond walked beside him down the oriental patterned runner. The bedroom door was ajar, the room neat, the bed made up with it’s quilted cover. The wardrobe was an old fashioned one, solid wood with glass pulls and Art deco waterfall finish. Q took a deep breath and opened the doors, revealing hanging space on the left and shelves and drawers on the right. The spaces were filled with undergarments. Silk, lace, and embroidery in all colors drew the eye and the touch and reflected off the cheval glass adjacent to the wardrobe. His secret was there, finally out in the open. He kept his eyes on the floor, flushed and apprehensive and waiting for a reaction. 

Bond reached out a hand and ran careful fingers over the profusion of fabrics, his expression pensive. No laughter was good, Q decided. Bond picked up a pair of lace knickers and studied them, rubbing the fine fabric between two fingers, finally raising his head. “I will make a leap and guess the secret you’ve been hiding so carefully is that you like to wear these.” 

Q took a small sip of the whiskey from his glass before placing it on the window ledge. He nodded and found his voice hoarse. “Yes, and I thought you needed to know before things got too heated. Surprises of this sort are sometimes not taken well. Heaven knows it’s happened to me before and it’s not something I ever want to deal with again.” 

Bond placed the garment he had been examining gently back on the shelf. He eyed the display again before catching Q with his intense gaze. “May I assume you are wearing some variation of this theme right now?” One eyebrow raised and Q lifted his chin in his best effort at defiant confidence. “Hidden depths, Quartermaster.” Bond paused and gave Q a very complete head to toe survey, bright blue eyes assessing. “I wonder if I might presume to ask?” He gestured at Q’s trousers. 

Q was stunned. “You want to see what I’m wearing now?” Bond’s mildly amused smile was a far cry from open ridicule but he still hesitated. Oh hell he’d gone this far, he might as well go all in. He began to turn slightly away, bringing his hands to his belt when Bond cleared his throat. Q looked up.

“May I help?” Bond edged closer and touched Q’s hands lightly, stroking the pale skin with the gentlest pressure imaginable. Q gulped in a harsh breath and lifted his own hands away, letting out a whispered assent and closing his eyes. Rather than acting immediately, Bond slid his hands up, grasping Q by the shoulders and towing him forward, to just in front of the cheval glass. Q shivered as Bond moved behind him and placed a light kiss on the side of his neck. Soft lips toyed with his ear and Bond whispered, “Look up.”

The view should have been familiar enough. He had dressed in front of that same mirror for years, but he almost didn’t recognize himself. His cheeks were flushed and the color spread down his neck. His eyes looked enormous, wide and darker than usual. And there was Bond at his back, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a look that nobody would mistake for anything but lusty approval. The man’s hands slid over his hips and around to the front of his body, slipping his tie loose and then pushing buttons through holes. Every inch of skin exposed was treated to soft caresses and Bond kept up a steady litany of commentary in his ear of how lovely he was and Q thought he might self combust if he blushed any harder. His shirt and cardigan were pulled off together and he watched as the too clever fingers dealt with his belt and the button and zipper of his trousers. One broad hand slipped into the opening and encountered lace, stroking back and forth over the edge, skin to fabric and back. Q realized he was holding his breath and inhaled deeply, feeling a bit giddy. A second hand slid downward and his trousers dropped to his ankles. He kicked them to the side, afraid of tripping and watched spellbound as Bond’s hands explored him, shivering under the paired visual and tactile input. The knickers were peach silk with lace at the top and leg openings. They cradled him snugly and he blushed even harder at seeing how his already hard cock was pushing at the front of the fabric, the head peeking over the top and leaving damp spots. Good God, what must Bond think of him. “They look amazing on you.” The rumble of the voice in his ear was seductive, erotic in a way he had never experienced before. He watched completely bemused as Bond traced a finger up the length of his cock making it twitch in it’s lace and satin. 

Q bit his lip and looked at Bond’s face reflected next to his. “Is this...I mean is this something you really are ok with?” Even to himself, Q’s voice sounded thin and uncertain. 

Bond brought one of his hands up to Q’s jaw, gripping firmly and keeping him focused on their reflection. Bond’s broad palm rested on Q’s pale skinned belly, the pinkie brushing at the edge of the lace and the tip of his cock. “Does this feel like I’m at all disinterested?” Bond punctuated the question with a firm press of his hips against Q’s backside, the substantial erection a more than sufficient answer. He spun them both around to the face the bed, nudging Q toward it and keeping his capable hands roaming every inch of skin he could reach. Bond sat himself on the edge of the mattress, and pulled Q in to stand in front of him, between his thighs. He grasped Q by the hips and asked in a quiet conversational tone, “Are these washable?” 

Q nodded and then realized that with Bond focused on other areas he might need to be verbal. “Yes, in the basin.” 

“Good thing then. These may get quite dirty.” Q had to brace both hands on Bond’s sturdy shoulders when the comment was followed by Bond leaning in and licking from base to tip of Q’s erection, the damp silk sliding and shifting under the wet heat. Q made a sound he would never admit making, halfway between a moan and a startled squeak. Bond leaned in further and mouthed along the area he had just licked. Q was sure he was losing his mind. The feeling was more intense that he would have believed. Teeth nibbled gently and he gasped, digging his fingers into the firm muscle under his hands. Bond continued this for several minutes, varying the pressure and patterns and leaving Q gasping and rising on his toes with the feeling of impending climax. Bond pulled back and slid himself back on the bed, raising his hips to shove off his own trousers and shoes. He slid back to the top of the bed, leaning against the headboard. Q took in the visual as he tried to calm his raging pulse, the strongly muscled form was even more impressive like this. Bond looked amazing in his tailored suits but clothed in just navy blue briefs and stretched out on Q’s bed, he was a bloody fantasy. Bond smirked and patted his thighs. “Come on, Q.” 

Q fumbled at the lace and then left it as it was when Bond shook his head minutely. He hoped desperately that he looked less awkward than he felt, climbing up on the mattress and crawling forward. Stupid sods in the videos always made it look sexy somehow. He was convinced he must just look clumsy. He straddled the strong thighs he had been admiring and knelt up, being very careful not to put weight where it might halt the proceedings. He looked down between them. Bond’s briefs were tented out and sported a sizable damp spot. Q licked his lips and heard a soft chuckle. “If I show you mine, will you show me yours?” Bond’s voice was full of a gentle amusement, a shared experience rather than a joke at Q’s expense. Feeling a little emboldened, Q reached down and carefully tugged the briefs up and away, with a helpful assist as Bond lifted his hips and kicked them the rest of the way off. He stared in admiration. Bond wasn’t overly huge but his cock was thick and nicely shaped. Removing his glasses, which Bond helpfully placed on the nightstand, Q shuffled back a bit and bent forward to taste. Slick and salt and absolutely wonderful. Bond rested one hand on the back of his head, flexing the fingers gently against his scalp. Q gripped the base and got his mouth around as much as he could, sliding down and back a few times to get the rhythm right. It was wet and noisy and utterly filthy and he was having the time of his life. He looked up at a soft tap at his shoulder, relinquishing his prize with a final slurp, moving back up to kneel across Bond’s lap. The capable hands reached for the lace waistband and tugged it down and back a little, just behind his balls. Bond wrapped one broad hand around both cocks and stroked up and then down, messy and slick with combined spit and precome. Q threw his head back and rocked up into the grip. He risked a look and found blue eyes staring back, utterly intent without any hint of amusement now, pursuing pleasure with absolute focus. Q leaned forward for a kiss and whispered, “Bond…”

“It’s James when we’re here, Quartermaster.” The kiss was dirty and deep and Q felt the blood rushing in his ears as his balls drew up tight and he pushed that little bit harder and felt Bond, no, James push up to meet him. Wet heat splashed between them and James twisted his grip and gave two more firm strokes before coming himself. He pulled Q down with him as he slumped down against the headboard and pillows, still kissing, now slow and easy, his hand between them still moving gently, spreading their release and drawing little shivers from Q’s cock. 

It was several moments before they got their breath back and James dragged the sodden knickers away from Q’s skin, mopping away at combined come with only minimal effect. Q reached down the bed and retrieved James’ navy briefs and made use of them, tossing them after the discarded panties, despite the mild disapproval in blue eyes. “Don’t scowl, James. Your face will freeze that way. I have a washer/dryer in the flat. They’ll be clean when you’re ready to go.”

“How do you know I’m planning to go? It is the weekend after all and even you get days off.” He punctuated this with a determined manhandling that ended with Q on his side and curled up under a muscular arm, head on James’ chest. 

“And what will we do with all that time?” Q breathed in the scent of sex and sweat and revelled in being with someone who knew his secret and enjoyed being here anyway.

Bond tapped one finger thoughtfully against the mattress. “Why the fancy lingerie? I mean I have seen men who liked it but not always for the same reasons.” 

Q pondered a moment. In for a penny, he supposed. “I had a female roommate at uni. She hated doing laundry and I disliked cleaning and picking up the flat. We agreed to trade those chores off. So I did all the laundry, including her lingerie. It seemed unfair to me that women had all these colors and styles and something different for every mood and the fabrics were so soft and…one day I decided to see what it was like and tried on a pair. I remember they were lavender with little bows on them. They felt amazing. But I couldn’t very well steal her knickers so I just washed and returned them.” He shifted and looked up but without glasses it was hard to read an expression on James’ face. He ducked his head back down and continued. “I read the label and went to the shop she used and bought a few pairs for myself. After that I went to class and meetings with my advisor and I felt bloody wonderful wearing them. Not sure why, maybe just having something nobody else knew about. Marge found out of course. I left a pair of mine in with her clean stuff one day and she asked me. She knew damned well I hadn’t had a woman in the flat. She just got two zip bags to put things in, one for me and one for her so I wouldn’t mix them up again.” Q chuckled at the next bit. “She bought me a complete set for my birthday from a real posh shop. Stockings, suspender belt, panties and a camisole. Still have it. I wear it under my suit for budget meetings.”

James tightened his arm briefly and Q felt a kiss on the top of his head. “I’ll have to pay more attention to what you wear to those meetings. Do you shop like that now? I mean it seems a bit risky.”

“People see what they want to see, James. They see a young man buy nice lacy things, most assume it’s for a girlfriend or wife. I pay cash and go to different places. I also buy online with a very anonymous account to a very anonymous post box.” Q settled a bit more comfortably in place. 

“No one to buy you things? Seems a shame.”

Q winced a little at that. “Hasn’t been anyone in a very long time, James. I have had exactly two men become aware of my secret before this. One said it didn’t matter but refused to even look at me when I had my things on. The second, well, he was a much bigger mistake. He said a number of very rude things before he shoved me into a door and walked out.”

“Hmm. Small wonder you were cautious then. It was worth the wait though. You’re astonishing in more ways than I might have guessed.”

“You’re very easy about this,” Q observed. 

There was a definite shrug at that. “You forget my experience in the field has been a lot broader than the average person’s. I never question why I find something enjoyable. And you are far from the first man of my acquaintance who has enjoyed the luxury of fine undergarments, although you may be the most attractive. The important thing is they look wonderful on you and make you feel good.” 

Q wrestled with that briefly. “And that’s all there is to it?”

“Why make things more complicated than they need to be?” James responded. He stretched and gave every indication of being ready for a nap. “It’s going to be easy to get you a Christmas present anyway.”


End file.
